


and these waves will carry you home

by earlgrey_milktea



Category: Free!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Home, M/M, Nostalgia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 11:22:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16785985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: Haru and Makoto come home.





	and these waves will carry you home

**Author's Note:**

> if you know me, you'll know that i am so terribly weak to the friends to lovers trope, and in particular, the easy comfort in a relationship as close as these two, physical intimacy so quiet and so warm. makoharu will always have a special place in my heart for those reasons, and i hope i managed to express some of that through this fic!
> 
> this fic is part of the [makoharu flashbang event](https://makoharubigbang.tumblr.com/) and the lovely [kurumai](https://twitter.com/kurumais) did the art!! pls feel free to check out the other wonderful works and the artist as well~

“—aru-chan. Haru, wake up!”

Blinking awake, Haru lifts his head from the train window to blink at Makoto. The other boy is leaning over him, his bag slung over his shoulder and Haru’s bag occupying his vacant seat. The train has stopped. Outside, Haru can see blue skies and a corner of the ocean.

“We’re here,” Makoto says. He holds out a hand.

Haru takes it.

“Let’s go home.”

The restaurant that Nagisa picked is noisy, crowded at peak hour, children screaming and old friends laughing, everything Haru despises about eating in public. But they have the corner booth, and Makoto is pressed right up against his side. Haru traces the condensation on his glass of water and listens to his friends chatter.

“You guys look so different now,” Makoto is saying.

“More mature, you mean?” Nagisa says.

“Mm, not quite,” Makoto replies.

Nagisa gasps in mock horror. “Rude, Mako-chan! You’ve been spending too much time with Haru-chan!”

“It must be the new haircut,” Rei says. He pushes up his glasses. “It has been a year, after all. How is Tokyo, Haruka-senpai?”

Haru thinks about it. “Busy,” he says. “The train stations are always crowded and everyone is always rushing off in opposite directions.”

“Sounds exciting,” Kou says.

“Tiring,” Haru corrects.

“But how is university? How is the swim team!”

At that, Haru can’t help but smile a little. The others all lean in at the rare expression, but Makoto just watches him fondly.

“It’s good,” is all he says, but everyone there hears so much more.

The chatter moves onto other things: little updates on how the Iwatobi swim club is doing, which universities they’ve applied to, how Makoto’s job as assistant swim coach is going. Haru submerges himself in the simple rhythm of it all. Infinitely familiar, just a little nostalgic. It tastes like summer on the horizon.

“Hey, Haru-chan,” Nagisa says, “Can we visit your apartment some time? You never sent any pictures onto the group chat!”

“Why not Makoto’s?”

“I heard that your view is better,” Kou pipes up, and Haru frowns at her. She grins, twirling a strand of her hair. “Onii-chan says you have a balcony, too. I’ve always wanted to stand on an apartment balcony and watch the night time Tokyo skyline like they do in the dramas.”

“Please, Haru-chan.” Nagisa leans across the table, his trademark puppy eyes at the ready. Rei attempts to pull him back before he knocks over his milkshake. But he’s shooting Haru hopeful looks, too.

Haru frowns harder. He makes the mistake of glancing over at Makoto, whose puppy eyes are much stronger than Nagisa’s. That’s where Nagisa learned it from. And everyone thinks Makoto is an angel. Haru sighs. He turns his head to the side. “Fine,” he says. “But I’m not cooking for everyone.”

“Yay! Party at Haru-chan’s place!”

“If Onii-chan is visiting, can we invite him, too?”

“I hope we get to do some sight-seeing, too, since we didn’t have time during the tournaments.”

“This is all your fault,” Haru says to Makoto.

Makoto laughs, and even after all these years, Haru finds himself falling for the sound all over again. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of Makoto’s laugh. “It’ll be fun,” Makoto says.

Eyes back on his food, Haru shifts and knocks his knee against his best friend. Makoto doesn’t move away. “Yeah,” he agrees quietly, listening to Nagisa list out everything he’s going to bring. “I can’t wait.”

As soon as Makoto opens the door, two pairs of socked feet come pounding down the hallway. Haru quietly slips out of his shoes as Makoto is bowled over by his siblings.

“Onii-chan!” Ren and Ran stick themselves to their brother’s torso, ignoring his half-hearted scolding about blocking the genkan. They soon spot Haru hovering behind. Delight dances across their faces. “Haru-nii!”

Haru stands there indulgently while the twins try their best to smother him, too. He pats them on their heads. “You guys grew taller,” he says. “Soon you’re going to catch up to me.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re short, Haru-nii!”

Haru frowns. He turns to Makoto. “Your siblings are bullying me, Makoto.”

“Don’t tease Haru-chan, you guys.” Makoto reaches out to ruffle Ren’s hair. Haru allows himself to be pulled along by Ran’s hand. He trades a smile with Makoto as they make their way down the hall.

The Tachibana residence has always been his second home. Nothing much has changed; maybe a few old pictures replaced, the houseplants moved to a different position, a new water bowl for the cats. But this is where Makoto grew up, and in retrospect, where Haru did, too. The smell of dinner coming from the kitchen, woven together with the comforting voices of Makoto’s parents as they turn to greet the kids; all of these things Haru hadn’t known to miss. A knot that Haru hasn’t even noticed has been resting in his chest since he first got on that train a year ago finally loosens.

He sits next to Makoto, politely accepting the extra vegetables and fish that Tachibana-san piles onto his rice. He eats dinner regularly with his teammates, with his friends from university, with Makoto, but there’s nothing quite like eating dinner with family.

“Here,” Makoto says. He trades Haru’s sprouts for the bell peppers in his bowl. There’s a grain of rice at the corner of his lips. Easily, Haru reaches over and brushes at the rice with his thumb. He sticks it in his mouth without thinking. Only after catching sight of the flush staining Makoto’s cheeks does he remember where they are. The twins are none the wiser, but Makoto’s mother sends him a small smile.

Haru focuses on his meal, but there is something swelling in his ribcage, spreading through his veins, all the way to his fingertips. It’s warm.

The sight of the ocean still soothes him like nothing else.

Haru walks through the stained-blue evening streets of Iwatobi, relishing in the quiet that’s so difficult to find where he lives now. On his right, the shifting waters stretch on farther than he can see. On his left, Makoto hums as he swings the little plastic bag filled with all their convenience store snacks.

“Makoto,” Haru says. “Are you still afraid?”

“Of the ocean, you mean?”

Haru nods. He keeps his gaze on the sea but he’s completely aware of Makoto’s eyes on him.

“A little,” Makoto admits. “Sometimes I still get nightmares. But only when I’m really stressed. I think swimming with you, and Rin, and everyone—I think that helped.”

Haru turns to look at him. Makoto still has the same haircut, the shaggy bangs, the messy curls just above his nape. The kindness in his eyes hasn’t changed. But Makoto carries himself differently: steadier, more confident, head held higher, shoulders looser. He looks at once the boy that Haru knows better than his own reflection, yet also unfamiliar like a handsome stranger on the train. Haru faces forwards again.

“I’m glad,” he says. “I’m glad you were there to swim with me.”

“You’d love swimming by yourself anyway,” Makoto says, not unkindly. He smiles softly. “I’m glad, too.”

“Makoto,” Haru says, and he waits for Makoto’s hum before he reaches out and slips his fingers into his friend’s hold. Makoto doesn’t comment, just readjusts their grip so he can hold on properly. Haru likes Makoto’s hands; they’re big and strong and warm like the rest of him, and most importantly, they fit around his own hand like it was something they were meant to do. Makoto always ran a bit hotter than Haru did, and in the evening breeze, the warmth is very much appreciated and coveted.

“Iwatobi hasn’t changed much, huh,” Makoto says into the comfortable silence.

Haru considers this. “Maybe we’re the ones that have changed.”

“You’re right! A year flew by but we’ve sure grown a lot, haven’t we?”

The waves kiss the shoreline like gentle greetings. Haru feels the urge to kick off his shoes and stick his toes into the freezing water. But Makoto’s hand is still linked with his, and the starlight reflecting off the sea is in no hurry to fade. Haru leans closer to Makoto, their arms brushing together.

“Let’s go swimming,” Haru says.

 _Let’s stay together,_ he doesn’t say out loud.

But he knows that Makoto hears him just the same. “Of course,” Makoto says, and Haru hears, _Always_.

Hand in hand, heartbeats as steady as the sea next to them, they make their way home.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: i cannot, for the life of me, ever spell "iwatobi" correctly and this frustrates me to no end.
> 
> talk to me about childhood friends trope and ocean imagery @puddingcatbae on tumblr/twitter!!


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